


We Never Knew The True Villain.

by AhFcuk_Iexist



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, DSMP, DreamSMP - Freeform, Other, Spoilers, Tragedy, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AhFcuk_Iexist/pseuds/AhFcuk_Iexist
Summary: You watch them for hours, I bet you feel like you know them better than whatever book you studied in high school.Or do you?This is a rewrite of the Dream SMP with a few minor twists based on the canon lore we have received. You will go back in time, before the death of the"hero" to re-live the most crucial moments and the scenes you forgot and will hopefully see the role-play in a way you have never quite experienced before.Good luck :)
Kudos: 2





	We Never Knew The True Villain.

Tulips are believed to represent true, or perfect love. To your optimist, they are romantic, but to your dear omniscient viewership there is a much darker meaning to their delicate white petals; rebirth. To mark the death of your dearest friend, to hope they may return. Poppies planted around heroes’ graves, real and fictional. Alliums; purple, mystery… unity. Patience. Sitting, waiting for his return. Begging that sinister god behind the script to grant us that moment,  _ the hero is alive _ ! He walks along the wooden path, splinters in his feet. Flowers mourning his death littering the soil. 

Alas it isn’t real, what you see is an illusion; he is dead. Dead beyond saving, dead to his enemy. A mad man, a dreamer. A control freak and master manipulator, he claimed the hero’s loveable best friend would be next on that chopping block.  _ Every hero needs an origin story _ . By the bench made for closure, in front of flowers; alliums, poppies, white tulips, azure bluet - a symbol of innocence, purity. He becomes a detective, he swears to find out the truth. The whole truth with nothing left over, a promise to not let go of what he had lost. In the shadow of his promise a large building, The Resurrection Tower. Abandoned. 

Identity. What is it? A symbolic representation of yourself. Who are you? What are you? What do you want? Do you even know yourself? The water reflects him, untouchable. This character who stares upon the ripples, a tight smile glued on with plastic to his face. To reach down, touch the coldness. Recoil. That forbidden feeling to be immersed in the liquid, his body floating down the stream peacefully. No one touches him, no one disturbs him. He knows where he is and who he is. He can relax. He cannot. The water would scar him, if he knew himself he would hurt himself. His true identity is nothing but a martyr for false promises. 

You know who they are. The jocks, the prom queens. They wear your work with pride, you love them for it. Your fantasies come true, headcanons galore. Marriage, capitalism, the devil. These characters are riddled with the seven deadly sins.  _ These violent delights bring violent ends,  _ the ones who know what you want to see. Corruption, a mockery of politics. That spark of mystery, the things you don’t expect- the changes in time, place, and character. The drills every drama student remembers. Improvisation, that paranormal bonding that is held together by invisible rings. They write so passionately, you love their plots. A time traveler showing you hints at a bigger picture, slowly losing his mind as he gets lost through the void picking up someone else’s stories. He assisted a tyrant and betrayed him to manipulate the next president, he who brings out the worst in himself and others, targeting those more powerful than him. Another who has been broken so many times one forgets his history, who he fought with- who he betrayed and what he killed to do so, one friend trapped in a never-ending slumber and the other locked away for unspeakable crimes. 

Those who sought revenge against the hero we adored. The man who hurt them who swore he would never kill the hero - that boy was the one he cared about. To kill the child. To hurt that villain. She had been lied to. She had lost a close friend, her best friend. A musician went mad. She missed him, never got to say goodbye and for what? His wish to protect a nation with that child? That annoying, godforsaken child who robbed people and burnt down their houses? Before her, another man. He had died, lost all three lives only to reject Satan’s hold on him. Returned to the earth, seeking revenge on the villain. To kill the child who had wronged him, had never been kind to him. Get close to him, get close to his friends- and then he dies. Then what? The child dies, emptiness. No purpose. What warrants them the right to a worthy ending? 

Underground a deep crimson growth spreading through the cracks in the wall, vines creeping through every crack and violating every crevice. Touching your characters, touching their souls. It wants power.  _ Nourishment _ . An ancient being that fed upon the poor, turned friends against each other only to repeat its mission for world domination. The innocent, the lover - not a fighter. A neutral party who used to stand to the sidelines, only interfering if it helped his people. A nation built by allies, ruled by each other. The warden of the prison, the generously kind cat, a man who craved diamonds so much he became the King Midas of the server. A mercenary, desiring chaos. A mother. What is more important? Yourself? Your job? What is a warden than obeys a fucking egg? What is a mother who seeks to kill a child to benefit that egg?

How many are there? Your beloved characters. Five? Four? Twenty? Thirty? Do you watch all of them, know all their stories? You think so? 

Then who is  _ really _ in charge? 

Did you think of that green guy with the memorable face? 

Did you think of that singer with the curly brown hair? 

Did you think of that one guy in the red and white shirt? 

Did you think of that pig in the north, preaching for anarchy?

DO YOU REMEMBER? 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! This is the prologue of the rewrite, please leave any feedback you have so the first chapter can, for better or worse, pop-off.


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